


Understood

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Drama, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-11-30
Updated: 2000-11-30
Packaged: 2018-11-11 05:44:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11142153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Sometimes even the best of friends come to a better understanding too late.





	Understood

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

 

understood

 

**Understood**  
by Silk

Pairing: Fraser/Kowalski 

Rating: PG 

E-mail: 

Date: 11/5/00 

Disclaimers: Not my characters. All things Due South belong to Alliance. Not for profit. 

Notes: This is my very first attempt at writing Due South fan fic. Needless to say, I am a bit horrified   
to discover that my first story turned out to be a death story. 

Warnings: M/M. DEATH STORY.   
  

Understood 

By Silk   
  

I didn't know you meant this much to me. I should have  known. I'm not the impulsive type. I plan ahead. 

But I didn't see this coming. 

Every time I see you, the feeling grows stronger. The  urge to claim you wars with the words of love that can  never be expressed. 

Men don't feel like this about other men. Not if  they're *real* men. Especially not if they're   
*Mounties*. And if there is one thing we both know  about me, it's that I am a Mountie, through and  through. 

 I am my father's son. More's the pity. 

In all the years I've known him, alive or dead, he's  never been able to tell me that he loves me.   
No doubt I will go to my grave without telling you. 

But there is always the chance that wondering, wondering, always wondering, never knowing, will drive  me crazy someday. If it does, I might walk into the 27th spouting some  kind of nonsense that sounds suspiciously like a declaration of love. 

You'll turn around, your mouth forming an "oh" of  surprise. You'll glance nervously at the other cops,   
cops near enough to hear. You'll say something meant to be noncommittal. 

I'll show you what I finally broke down and bought. A  shiny new gun. 

You'll say, "For me?" in a tone more high-pitched squeak than voice. 

I'll say, "No, for me." 

You'll realize what's going to happen a moment before it does. 

You'll scream, "Noooo!" 

And I won't have to wonder anymore. 

You'll crouch over me, trying to pull me into your arms too late. And now you'll wonder...why you never  had the courage to say those words you were saving for someday. 

You'll whisper, "I love you." 

And my body's last exhalation of breath will be... 

 "...Understood..."   
  

**The End.**   
  


End file.
